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lirik lagu despoiled porcelain – kaneda7

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[intro]
kaneda
can you really tell?
it should be easy, pausing
and yet, it’s like walking through mud
​nightmarehouse

[verse 1]
“behave,” that’s what they say, yet they ignore your decay
due to a straying to the path you paved
i think there’s a monster but we have to be brave
’cause n0body gets bit if they just
“behave,” that’s what they say, yet they ignore your decay
due to a straying to the path you paved
it’s dark and desolate, just stay in the cave
social b*tterflies left cocoons in your brain

[build]
stop taking walks at night in a den of wolves
a lamb a dozen, they’ll enjoy wearing your wool
a ghost of eighteen years, can you even see me?
take a hammer, break my feet, tie me to the bed like it’s misery
a walk in the cemetery, tombstones have no name
you’ll die as a idiot if you slit your wrists in vain
a family photo but a need to crop the frame
as you’re being beaten bloodied, you should pay your thanks to cain
[chorus]
cheering and claps, you’re lying flat on your back
tears wiped from purple and black
cum in your throat and you hack
a porcelain doll, i think whom’s taken it’s toll
your hands, they’re so cold, entrails feasted on by the crows
sorry, i’m weak and frail, pretty in atrophy
just run your hand though my hair, oh, so gently
fever dream then you’re cold, hold you ’til we’re old
flowers bloom aside mold as beauty fades in a hole

[verse 2]
documentary featured in black and white
glimpses of color, skin under flashing lights
do you see god when you look at the sky?
does he look back when it’s your candy at nine?
will you hit the floor if you’re falling back?
crosswords spelling, “die” scribbled out in black
kissing her hand, a peck to a lepper
is there proof of a soul in her autopsy letter?

[chorus]
cheering and claps, you’re lying flat on your back
tears wiped from purple and black
cum in your throat and you hack
a porcelain doll, i think whom’s taken it’s toll
your hands, they’re so cold, entrails feasted on by the crows
sorry, i’m weak and frail, pretty in atrophy
just run your hand though my hair, oh, so gently
fever dream then you’re cold, hold you ’til we’re old
flowers bloom aside mold as beauty fades in a hole

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